


A Fight to Remember

by Vesuvian_American



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesuvian_American/pseuds/Vesuvian_American
Summary: Another exciting fight at the Coliseum for most. Except, Muriel will never forget this day.





	A Fight to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Gender Neutral gladiator vs Muriel

Another day on the sand. The people love to see the blood, the carnage. It disgusts you and leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Finally, today you’re against the Scourge of the South. You know you can’t win but you have a plan. A plan to be free. A plan to free everyone your master owns. If only you could save the Scourge as well. Everyone fears the Scourge. Not you though. They’re too afraid to notice. Too afraid to notice the fear, sorrow, and guilt, that fill his forest green eyes. You see it, you have the same eyes as him. You hope one day he’ll be free from this hell. Already you hear the roar from the Coliseum above. You have a mixture of fear and doubt. When the memories of your time as a gladiator resurface though, the doubt is replaced by anticipation and excitement. Not to fight the Scourge, but to kill your master and lose today on the sand. Where you’re from, you’re feared much like the Scourge. You’re the best back home, though you no longer have sentimental ties to that place. The Scourge however is a different ball game. His name has spread far and wide. Other times, when your master would come to visit the Count you would be locked up underneath the Coliseum where the Scourge was. He kept to himself, quiet and reserved. He always had this scowl on his face, but you knew it was all a façade, a tactic to keep others away. He craves solitude, you know, and you know this because you want the same thing. You know you two are one in the same. Two killer peas in a murderous pod. 

“Hey you! Get the hell up scum!” You’re shaken from your thoughts as the voice of a guard rings in your cell. It’s time. “Ohohoho, go easy on them now guards. They may look worthless but they’re my prized possession. My start gladiator that’s going to kill that Scourge, once and for all.” Your master, enters your cell. Your face twists with disgust, he reeks of beer and cheap perfume. “Come along my dearest pet, will you make me proud today? Will you kill again, for me?” He asks with a devious tone. “Yes, Master.” Averting your eyes, you try to suppress your emotions. You hate him, obviously, but you’re also so excited for this to be over. You’ve been practicing your aim. He swiftly grabs you by the throat, pushing you hard against the damp cell wall. “I thought I made it clear. Do not call me Master.” He’s quick. “Yes, my... my Lord.” When you’re released you try not to make a scene catching your breath, for a quick second your insecurities come flooding back into your mind. What if you can't do it. What if you can't kill him. “Now,” he brushes off his clothes as if he’s covered in dust. “Go make me proud.” 

It’s a hot day in Vesuvia. You and the Scourge are first in the Coliseum. You wonder what will happen after you kill your master. You dress in your gladiator gear and grab your weapon, bow and arrow. When you were young, you never could have imagined you’d die in a Coliseum as a gladiator, let alone a murderer. When you stop into the ring, you pay no heed to the crowd. They’re loud but your thoughts and your thrumming heartbeat is louder, and yet... When the Scourge walks into the arena it’s as if everything freezes. You hear nothing, you think nothing, you see nothing but him. You never knew you could feel a feeling like this. You always tried to ignore these thoughts from the first time you ever laid your weary eyes on him. He’s handsome and stoic. Quiet, maybe even shy, you’d never know that for sure. You were happy to die by his hand, grateful even. When you both meet in the middle of the arena, he seems to recognize you, and how could you ever forget him? You’d never speak to your opponents before battle, but this time was going to be different. “Hello, Scourge.” He’s startled at your soft voice, but you continue, “will you allow me one wish before any blood decorates this sand? Please?” He goes to speak but the Count’s voice interrupts. “On with it Scourge, kill that weakling and let’s move on, hm? As much as I enjoy this, I haven’t got all day!” he yells. The Scourges hand tightens around his axe, and your hand does the same around your bow. “Scourge, I will not fight you. I wish to kill my master and then lay my head on your anvil” The hulking figure across from you takes a step back in shock. “Wha-” His voice, like thunder, causes butterflies to stir in deep in your gut. However, it’s a little too late for that. “Don’t be alarmed. I’ve planned this. I have good aim.” 

Your master is seated in a booth, center stage, with the Count. Both eagerly watching their champions. As if losing patience, your lord speaks. “What is it that’s going on down there. You’re about to kill the Scourge, what’s there to talk about?!” Without hesitation your attention leaves the Scourge and turn to your master. You turn in his direction and give him an apologetic smile. “My apologies, my Lord.” You raise your bow and grab an arrow, prepping your weapon. The Scourge takes a step back and again tightens his grip on his mighty axe. Giving him a side glance, you smile to reassure him. You raise your bow, pointing it first at the Scourge, and then quickly at your master and loose the arrow. It sores through the air and right into the chest of your master. The crowd is silent. You slowly grab another arrow, eyeing your opponent in question. “Shall I free you of the Count as well?” Lucio watches, a mix of anger and amusement in his eyes, he stands. He knows what is to happen next. “Oh, so you intend to kill me as well? Well, get on with it.” He’s teasing you. He underestimates you. The Scourge next to you gives you your answer. His eyes filled with anticipation and shock, almost begging you to kill him already. You give him a wink and loose your second arrow. It glides through the air with intimidating speed right at the Count. Lucio’s calm demeanor is destroyed by a wicked grin, he only slightly moves out of the way of the arrow, he catches it just before it buries itself in his chest. His gold gauntlet gleaming bright in the sun. You hadn't noticed how quiet the Coliseum was until that moment. He caught the arrow. How? How could he? It was you that misunderstood him, tears almost well in your eyes when you see the sorrow in the Scourges eyes. “Ha! You thought you could kill me so easily? You don’t even know me, I am the real Scourge of the South, your opponent there is only adopting my name because I own him! I will always own him. He’s mine! He will live to be my gladiator and he will die my gladiator. You can't save him. You can't save yourself. Now get on with it, Scourge.” He takes his seat, unbothered by the bloodied corpse next to him in the booth. He simply takes the other’s drink and empties it into his own gut. Your shoulders drop in defeat. You honestly hadn’t planned to try and kill the Count but, being here by the Scourge made you want to save him even more. The first tear falls, but it’s not your own. You hear your opponent sniffle, and you whip your head to face him. He’s crying, the crowd can’t tell due to his long brown hair obscuring the view but you see. You see how his beautiful face is wet with salty tears he can no longer control. 

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to save you too.” You say with a shaky voice. You know there’s only one thing left in your plan. To have the Scourge kill you. Him killing you could save him from any further consequence of today’s charade. He doesn’t respond, he just closes his eyes and curses under his breath. “What is your name, if you’re not the Scourge?” Without opening his eyes, after a brief pause, he finally answers. “Muriel.” “That’s beautiful, Muriel.” You step closer, dropping your weapon, you’re not here to fight anymore. “Muriel, I’m sorry that you will remember this for the rest of your life. I’m sorry that my face with forever be in your dreams. I’m sorry you’ll never forget this day, or these words. My name is _______. I’ve cared about you for some time now, we’ve been around each other before, I’ve always wanted to save you from this. Now instead, I’m only making things worse. You have to kill me now, I won’t fight for my life, I was prepared for this part at least.” He’s looking you in your eyes now, the tears haven't stopped. You drop to the ground at Muriel’s feet on your hands and knees you lay you head low before him. “Please, end me, but forget me not, Muriel. I am so sorry. I will protect you forever. I’m sorry.” Tears drop before you, both yours and Muriel’s. “Please, please do this for me Muriel. I know how you hurt, I know you feel guilty, I feel that now too. I don’t want to make you do this. It shouldn’t be you, but it is.” You plead hard, banging your fist on the ground. Finally, he lifts his axe high above his head. You speak one last time. “I’m sorry Muriel, I’m so sorry. Don’t forget me.” 

“I won’t.” He says with a shaky voice, shutting his eyes as tight as he can. “I’m sorry too, _______” At that, the last thing you can do is smile as your last tears fall to the earth beneath you. You whisper, “I love you” and the last thing you hear is Muriel’s scream as the axe comes down. It’s all over. The crowd waits for a bit, and then erupts in commotion. Muriel keeps his eyes closed but he knows the viscous liquid leaving you is underneath his shoes. He trembles, and quietly mumbles to himself, “I loved you too. I’ll never forget.” He turns his back and only then does he open his eyes to catch the Count leaving the Coliseum for the dungeon underneath. The anger settling inside Muriel’s chest is unlike any before. The guards take him away and he doesn’t protest. Back to the dungeon to await another day in the Coliseum, but none will be burned into his memory like this day.

**Author's Note:**

> My first major angst writing, please go easy on me!


End file.
